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autumn poetry

letzter Mitternacht
ist häufig er nicht so?
zum leidenschaftlichen Geliebten
bleiben Sie nicht mehr
meine Mutter unterrichtete mich daß jede Nacht
lassen Sie uns errichten
Welt, die unter meiner Hand ändert
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese
ich brenne keinen Duft


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